


Stress relief

by orphan_account



Category: Wanted (2008)
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 05:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nighttime visitor turns out to be out not to kill Wesley, but to give him something he didn't know he wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress relief

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah [those gifs](http://mcavoyster.tumblr.com/post/22836556464) of Wesley and the Repairman made me crave fic, and since I couldn't find any I just wrote some shamless pwp myself.  
> Not beta'd, so I apologize in advance for... everything.

Wesley wasn't the same person he had been three weeks ago. The Wesley he had been wouldn't be sleeping with a loaded gun under his mattress. That Wesley wouldn't have woken up from the noise of a train passing by just outside his window, even less so from the slight creak made by someone stepping on the wooden floor of his bedroom. The Wesley that he was now, however, was wide awake in a fraction of a second, peering out between nearly closed eyes into the darkness of the room, while moderating his breathing and feigning sleep.

Spending time being trained by and/or the target of a bunch of master assassins could do that to you.

The invader was silent now, but Wes could sense him moving through the darkness. He waited until he caught a glimpse of movement, then in a quick, fluid move rolled out of his bed while snatching his gun from its hiding place. He landed in a crouch, and in the same motion lifted his gun to shoot.

He had no time to fire.

The invader must somehow have anticipated his move, because as soon as he raised the gun, the man aimed a vicious kick towards his lower arm, making him lose his grip and sending the weapon flying. Wesley caught a glimpse of a familiar grim face and a shock of blonde hair before he was hit with a bone rattling punch that sent him off balance, knocking him against the bedside table. 

_Now there's a familiar sensation._

"What the fuck - " he started, but before he could say anything else the Repairman hit him again, grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him to the floor. He landed on his front and the man landed on top of him, twisting his arms up painfully behind his back. 

"Motherfucker!" he gasped as the Repairman's weight settled on top of him, pushing him into the floor. A half healed cut on his cheek had reopened, and he could feel blood trickling across his face. Adrenaline started rushing and the moment slowed down to a pinpoint of focus. The pain of the punches barely registered - he had gotten his face bashed in often enough by this guy that it was becoming routine. He bucked in an attempt to throw the guy off, but he had no leverage. 

"Did I miss my daily beating today, or something?" 

The Repairman didn't answer. Wesley could feel a puff of warm breath against the back of his neck.

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

The reply came in the form of something warm and wet dragging over a spot just below his ear. The Repairman's tongue, he realized. _Okay, what the fuck?_

 "Are you kidding me?" Wesley hissed. "Get off me, you freak!"

"I don't think so", the Repairman all but purred into his ear, then his mouth latched on to the side of Wesley's neck and he sucked lightly.

Wesley grunted and tried to twist loose, but the Repairman has him pinned with all his weight. Even when the man let go of one of his arms to slip his hand between Wesley and the floor, there was little he could do to escape.

He felt the Repairman's fingers close over his cock through his boxers and squeeze, none too gently. 

"Fuck!"

"Yeah", breathed the Repairman, and started rubbing him. Wesley was suddenly painfully aware that the man's erection was pressed against his backside. For a moment nothing moved, except the Repairman's hand on his cock. The fingers were warm and felt surprisingly good, like Wesley remembered they had done massaging his neck and face before during the last few weeks and fuck, he was getting hard.

All of a sudden the hand was gone, and the Repairman was leaning back a bit, giving him enough room to twist around to try and aim a punch at the guy. Instead, he felt fingers close around his jaw and he was being kissed.

It was nothing like any kiss he had ever experienced before, not that he had all that many to compare it to - sure, there had been a couple of high school girlfriends and then there had been Cathy up until she started shagging his best friend and he couldn't stand to touch her anymore - but all those kisses were wiped from his mind as the Repairman pushed his tongue into Wesley's mouth.

This kiss was forceful, invasive even, he could feel stubble where he was used to soft skin, and the man's fingers were digging into the flesh of his cheek. Even so, Wesley found himself responding to the kiss, his tongue moving against the other's. When the Repairman caught his lower lip between his teeth and bit down, Wes found himself moaning. 

The Repairman leaned back to pull off his t-shirt, and Wesley could see lean muscle moving under his skin in the faint light from the windows as he tossed the clothes aside. The man was straddling his hips, looking down at him with a feral grin.

"Uh, I'm not really sure about this, I - I - I don't, I mean I haven't - " Wesley found his mouth had started blathering without any conscious effort on his behalf.

"Shut up."

The Repairman grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. The blood suddenly rushing to his head made Wesley dizzy, and he could hardly resist as the man pushed him down to sit on the side of the bed. His boxers were unceremoniously pulled down, and Wesley cried out in surprise when the Repairman's mouth closed over the head of his cock.

Wesley let out a long groan. "Oh fuuuuck..." His hand went up on its own volition to fist in the Repairman's hair. It had been a long time, a really long time since anyone did this to him, and he had forgotten how fucking good it felt. He lay back across the bed, and lost himself to the sensations of the Repairman's lips sliding up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around the head on the upstrokes. The guy's fingers wrapped themselves gently around his balls and massaged, and Wesley thought we wouldn't mind staying like this forever - no more guns, no more getting beaten up, no more trying to live up to some kind of legend of a father figure that he'd never even met. Just the heat of the Repairman's mouth and pressure of his fingers until he was lost in oblivion.

Wesley was nearing his release at breakneck speed when the Repairman stopped abruptly. Wesley swore and tried to push the man's head back down on his cock, but the Repairman pulled away. His eyes glinted in the darkness.

"Turn over", came the sudden command.

" _What?_ "

He didn't repeat himself, but simply manhandled Wesley into bending over the side of the bed, knees resting on the floor.

_Oh my god. I'm fucked, I'm literally going to get fucked, what should I -_

His panicked train of thought was derailed by the Repairman's hands, grabbing his ass and spreading his cheeks. With the same confidence he did everything he leaned in, and Wesley felt that wet, warm, sinful tongue slide over his entrance.

_This can't seriously be happening._

But it was, the Repairman was licking, licking him there and it felt _amazing_.

Wesley fisted his hands in the sheets next to his head and buried his face in the mattress to muffle his moans. The Repairman's tongue slid up and down, up and down over his entrance and then pushed inside him. Wesley's cock was trapped against the side of the bed's steel frame, and he was so hard it was painful. He couldn't remember ever needing to come this bad before in his life.

He heard a faint clicking noise behind him, and the Repairman's tongue was gone, quickly replaced by the prodding of blunt fingers. He felt something cold and slick against his skin, and then one finger was sliding inside.

Wesley was too far gone to care that he was about to get fucked anymore. He just pushed back against that finger, needing something to alleviate that frustrating pressure mounting in him.

"Fuck, yes", he heard the Repairman mutter behind him. The words were quickly followed by the stretch of another finger pushing in alongside the first.

"Just fucking get on with it", he heard himself say. "Just fuck me already, fuck me, do it!"

The Repairman let out a groan and pulled his fingers out. Wes could feel him press close, his chest leaning against Wesley's back, and he was fumbling with something, no longer calm and collected but frantic, desperate. Then Wesley felt the first nudge of the Repairman's cock against his ass.

He screwed his eyes shut and tried desperately to make his body relax, even as every instinct told him to tense up against the intrusion. The pain was nothing, though - he had gotten his face smashed in and his bones broken so often in the last three weeks, this was nothing in comparison. He could faintly hear the Repairman's labored breathing over the rush of blood in his ears, as he pushed, slowly, and finally was inside.

The Repairman didn't stop until he had pushed in to the hilt and his hips was pressed flush against Wesley's backside. 

"Fuck, but you're a tight little bitch", he muttered, right in Wesley's ear. The he started to move, rocking gently at first but soon thrusting deep and hard.

Wesley's cock had gone half soft when the Repairman had been pushing inside him, but now he could feel himself getting hard again. Each thrust pushed him up against the side of the bed, rocking it and pushing it a few inches away from him, until only his forearms was leaning against it.

The Repairman stopped for a moment and pulled out, causing Wes to groan. "Get on the bed. On your back", he ordered and Wesley complied, spreading his legs to let him settle between them. 

The Repairman slid his hands slowly along Wesley's thighs. "I've been wanting to fuck you from the second I laid eyes on you." He pushed Wesley's legs back enough to position himself at his entrance, and thrust inside.

Wesley threw his head back and lost himself in the sensation of the Repairman's cock filling him up. He had never expected something like this could feel so good. Gasps of pleasure turned into moans as the Repairman grasped his cock and started stroking him in time to the thrusts.

He quickly realized he wasn't going to last long like this. Every stroke of the Repairman's hand seemed to twist his insides into an ever tightening knot and every thrust hit something inside him that made sparks dance in front of his eyes.

"Fuck", Wesley gasped, "Fuck, I'm, I'm gonna -"

The Repairman said nothing, just thrust harder, his face set in an expression of intense concentration, eyes locked on Wesley's face. And then Wes was coming with a shout, his entire body jerking in time with The Repairman's thrusts, his seed landing in spurts over his belly and chest. Then the Repairman let go of his cock, grabbed his hips in a bruising grip, and thrust wildly and irregularly until he too was coming with a hoarse cry. Then he collapsed on top of Wesley, paying no mind to the sticky mess.

Their panting breaths seemed extremely loud in the aftermath of their orgasm. Wes found that he had lifted a hand and tangled it in the Repairman's hair without thinking. They stayed like that for a while, both of them too wrapped up in afterglow to want to move.

After a few moments, the Repairman pulled out and rolled off Wesley. Wes rubbed at his face. "Fuuuck."

The Repairman snorted. "You have to work on your vocabulary, man."

"Maybe you should bash my face in with a dictionary next time."

"Or else fuck you with it."

"Please don't."

The Repairman let out a low chuckle. 

Wesley turned on his side, grunting at the stab of pain from his backside. "Ugh. I could do with a wax bath right about now."

The Repairman grinned. His hair was ruffled and the frown he normally wore was nowhere to found. For a second, Wesley thought that he actually looked kind of... Hot. 

The Repairman scooted a bit closer and slipped an arm around Wesley.

"Funny, I didn't take you for the cuddling type", said Wesley in a dry tone of voice, but was silenced by lips, pressed against his own. They shared a slow, lazy kiss, and Wes felt the Repairman's hand slide down his back and settle on his ass. Questing fingers slipped between his cheeks and nudged at his hole.

He pulled back. "Hey, stop that."

The Repairman just laughed and laid back. "We should do this again sometime."

"Sure. Next time I'll fuck you. Now get the fuck out of my bed."

The Repairman got up and started picking up clothes from the floor, still chuckling. "Sure thing."

Wesley shot him a look, but couldn't tell if the man was being serious or not. For a second he imagined what it would be like, their roles reversed, and he felt his cock twitch with interest at the thought.

"See you tomorrow. Wesley."

Wes grunted and pulled the covers over himself, ignoring the Repairman as he was leaving the room. Within moments he was asleep.

* * *

The next day when Fox took him to his session with the Repairman, he slipped free of the bonds and hit back.


End file.
